Can't Breathe that Air
by Buggy2013
Summary: Sometimes the strangest things blindside us and knock us into the downward spiral. !CW: graphic panic attack!


Sam stiffened when she walked by. He felt as if his skin was made of fire and his heart was made of ice. 'Focus on the job', he chastised himself, but the knots in his stomach kept tightening. He tried to listen to Dean speak with the lady, the wife of a hunter they'd be working with on this case. The room was running out of air, and fast. She offered them seats on the couch and his trembling limbs ached for the rest, but his ever tightening chest screamed for him to get out. He sat, despite his body's unnecessary warnings.

He tried to take in the details that she hashed out to them in a soft drawl, but they drifted in one ear and out the other. The panic heightened as the pain in his chest worsened and he felt his fingers and toes going numb. Dean stepped on his foot discretely, a silent request for him to stop the jostling of his leg. It bounced chaotically, and took some effort to get control over. C'mon, deep breath…. breathe…. just breathe… nope.

"Excuse me." He forced through his teeth and walked to the door. Dean shrugged at the request, but watched his little brother out of the corner of his eye through the nearby window. Once the door closed behind the younger man, he took off at a dead sprint and skidded on his knees behind the Impala that was parked across the road.  
"Is he alright?" The woman asked. She was young but motherly, and apparently noticed the display as well. "Um, I'm not sure what's gotten into him." Sam still hadn't emerged from behind the vehicle, and Dean was getting antsy.  
"Go check on him. You guys look wiped out. We can talk later when you're both fresh." Dean nodded gratefully, then subtly closed the blinds and headed out the door. He jogged across the road, trying the mentally handle the situation that he really knew nothing about thus far.  
"Sam?" He called, alerting the other of his presence before rounding the back of the car. His brother was on all fours, with anything he'd eaten in the past few hours in a puddle in front of him. He gasped desperately for air, making Dean panic a little. "Sammy! Hey, talk to me."

Sam sat back on his heels and wrapped his arms around himself.  
"Dean-... I can't-... She-"  
"Hey, take it easy."  
He helped his brother sit down and guided his head between his knees. Sam was shaking violently, and with a firm hand on his back Dean could feel his heart race wild. 'Panic attack' Dean thought as a small sob tore from Sam's lips. He ran his hand up and down the other's back methodically. "Breathe, Sam. You're okay, deep breaths."

It was painful to watch. The giant man would draw in four or five sharp, unsatisfactory breaths that would tear from him in a garbled, messy sob. More than once Dean had a hard time catching his breath just listening to it. He held strong, rubbing his giant brother's back and supplying him with instructions for how to breathe properly.

It took a long time, feeling like hours for the pair, but finally the shaking started to calm and his breathing started to even out. Dean slipped two fingers to the inside of Sam's wrist. Satisfied that his pulse had slowed the older guided the still trembling man to lie on his back. He sat cross legged next to him and kept a hand on one of his shoulders to keep him down as much as comfort him. Sam took deep, needy breaths. It was reassuring to hear that, compared to the raspy gasping noises he was making earlier.  
"Can you tell me what's got you so worked up?" Dean asked gently. Sam kept his eyes closed, and took a slow, deep breath before sitting up and mirroring his big brothers position. Dean let his hand drop.  
"Her perfume."  
"What about it?"  
"It was Jess's favorite, and my favorite. It just got to my head before I could help it."  
Sam scrubbed at his face and tried to clear his head. A heavy hand fell on his knee.  
"What can I do for you?" He tried to keep the helplessness out of his voice, but failed. Sam shrugged, looking embarrassed.  
"I think I need to lie down." He looked away bashfully.  
"No problem, man. Lets get going."  
Sam nodded gratefully, and Dean hopped up and offered the other his hand. Sam took it and stood up shakily, leaning heavily on his brother.  
That night at the motel that they opted for, instead of the proffered rooms in the fellow hunter's house, Dean pretended he couldn't hear his little brother's pained sobs from the other bed. Same ol' same ol'. They'll get through this, just like they always do.


End file.
